


Misunderstanding

by bigblueboxat221b



Series: How Does Your Marriage Work? [9]
Category: Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Diane POV, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Friends to Lovers, In Gander, Kind Strangers, Misunderstanding, Musicals, Screech In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 15:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20311420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: Diane kissed Nick during the screech in, but she's convinced they're not seeing things from the same angle. Will her rash decision have more serious consequences?





	Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is not RPF  
While Nick and Diane in the musical are based on real people, this story is set strictly in the fictional representation of them in the musical, ‘Come From Away’. I haven’t done any research into their personal lives, and anything further than what is canon in the musical is completely made up, with the exception of some geographical details. This is not intended to represent the real life couple in any way, their thoughts, attitudes or actions. It’s just my brain saying, ‘what if?’, as it does to every story that resonates with me.

Diane was enjoying herself, but she did feel a little guilty. Nick had bought her a beer, which she’d accepted, but it was unfamiliar and not really to her taste. When he asked if she was done and offered another she’d dropped the half-finished bottle into the trash before Nick could see it. The second beer had been no better than the first and when Nick excused himself to the bathroom, she emptied it into a pot plant.

She mentally apologised, hoping it would survive, idly wondering how many other unwanted drinks had been tipped into the poor plant before this evening.

“We need some volunteers!”

Nick had just returned, and Diane could see him looking for her beer bottle. To distract him she volunteered them for…whatever it was that man was planning. She hadn’t been listening all that much.

“Where are you from?” he asked them.

“Texas, and-” Diane started.

“What part of Texas you from, buddy?” their host asked Nick.

Diane saw his face freeze. “No,” she said, “I’m from Texas, he’s from England.”

Their host looked confused. “But how does that work?”

“How does what work?” Diane asked, and heard Nick asking the same thing behind her.

“How does your marriage work, with you in Texas and him in England?”

Diane snorted a laugh, glancing at Nick. He looked a little startled, though he was managing to deny their marriage along with her.

“Oh, I thought you were married,” the host said. There was a pause and he said brightly, “Well, would you like to be?”

Diane could see Nick’s eyes grow wide, and with an over enthusiastic cry, she answered him. “Well why not?”

Her heart was pounding as she sat down, beaming at Nick. He looked astonished, but he sat beside her. “You don’t usually drink beer, do you?”

“Nope,” Diane said, grinning at him. She had the impression he thought she was more affected than she was, but this whole evening was so over the top it was simply hard not to get carried away. The locals were so enthusiastic, and it was contagious, and she needed something right now, something to push her out of her comfort zone.

It might even give her the courage to take a further step with Nick. They’d danced around things for a couple of days now, and she’d spent so much time trying to decide if she should take the risk that she was too confused to do anything.

Before she could think, someone plonked a bright yellow hat on her head and handed her a shot glass. “What?” she looked at Nick, his face adorably bewildered under his own hat.

“I have no idea…” he started, before noticing the shot glass in his hand. His eyes went wide. “I don’t really drink spirits,” he said, but the words were almost lost in the cheer as someone started pouring an amber liquid into each shot glass.

Diane looked at him, amusement and affection blooming in her as he tried to explain that he only wanted a small amount in his glass. When the woman left, his glass was full as hers, and he met her eyes.

She grinned and raised her glass, and for a second she wondered if he’d refuse to drink, but when the locals counted down, he tipped his head back the same as she did.

It burned more than Diane anticipated, and she winced at it.

“That’s horrific!” Nick gasped.

“That’s delicioush,” Diane replied, exaggerating the lisp at the end. She grinned at Nick, watching him watch her, his face opening with pleasure at her not-so-accidental lisp.

She was still holding his eyes, wondering ‘what if,’ when a cheer in the room pulled her out of the moment. “Is that a fish?”

Nick blinked, “I think so.”

Their shared look was a little apprehensive. What was the fish for?

“…you’ll have to give her a smooch!” the host called, raising the fish over his head.

“Kiss the fish?” Diane said, a grin pulling again at her mouth.

“I’m not kissing a fish!” Nick exclaimed as the host came close.

“Go on, I will if you will,” Diane told him.

He looked at her, and she raised her eyebrows, silently driving him on.

“Urgh,” he groaned, finally pecking at the fish’s mouth.

When the fish was pointed at her, Diane just couldn’t. “I can’t,” she managed, screwing up her nose. She might have had enough beer to flirt a little with Nick, but she definitely didn’t have enough in her system to kiss a fish.

“Well,” the host said finally, after trying to convince her to no avail, “he’s kissed the fish, so if you kiss him, it’s just about the same!”

Diane looked at him blankly, her mind racing. She could see Nick sit up straighter, saying, “What?!”

Without a thought, she turned to Nick, who faced her, eyes wide. She smiled briefly at him, the only warning before wrapping one hand around his neck, pulling him in at the same time she leaned in, planting a kiss right on his mouth. He froze as the room erupted around them, cheers and whoops ringing out. Diane barely noticed the noise; she was concentrating on how lovely it actually was to kiss Nick. When he hadn’t responded she loosened her grip, almost letting him go, when suddenly he reacted, his mouth softening against hers and hands suddenly gripping her, too.

Vaguely, Diane heard another song strike up, and she and Nick broke the kiss at the same time. They were still close, and she knew her eyes were wide with surprise that it had even happened. He looked as surprised as she did. Her fingers were still wrapped around a handful of his shirt, and she could feel his hands still resting on her – one shoulder, one near her knee. They were hot, body heat radiating through her clothes.

They were locked in their moment, but when Nick broke eye contact, panic swept over Diane. Should she not have done that? Would Nick think she was drunk? Or would he think she just really didn’t want to kiss that fish? Possibilities swirled through her mind and she blinked at him. His hands lifting from her body left cold patches on her skin and somehow, in her heart.

Had she made a mistake?

Trying for a smile, Diane stood, tears beginning to blur her eyes as she pushed her way through the crowd. The shot glass dropped somewhere, and the cold outside air hit her face as she clattered down the stairs. Angrily, she swiped at the tears, choosing to turn left, walking blindly down the street with no idea where she was going. The sharp regret in her chest was a surprise; she hadn’t realised how much Nick had come to mean to her, but the idea of him keeping his distance now, probably moving to sleep somewhere else, and then not seeing him again…it hurt more than she expected it would.

Finally, her legs slowed, and she realised two things: she’d left the bar without her coat, and she had no idea where she was. She turned a circle, the tears coming again as she berated herself for such a stupid move. None of the streets were familiar, but Gander wasn’t that big, she told herself. Surely if she walked for long enough she’d come across something she recognised. There was the Tim Horton’s, she could find the shelter again from there; or from the main street. But this was residential, and there were few street lights and even fewer lights in the houses.

Sighing, Diane started walking, wrapping her arms around herself, wishing she’d paid more attention to where she was going. It was probable that if she knocked on a door someone would help her find her way, but even the idea of admitting why she was lost made her cheeks heat, thinking about it here in the dark. Resolutely, she kept walking. Eventually she’d reach somewhere she knew, she was sure of it.

Diane had no idea how long she’d been walking, but if it was possible, she thought she was more lost than last time she’d stopped to try and get her bearings. Several times she’d backtracked, seeing the houses peter out, the streetlights stopping at what she thought was the edge of town. By now she was so turned around she couldn’t even guess as to where she was, and this far north the stars were no help, not that she’d really be able to navigate by them anyway. She was shivering, too, her fingers just about completely devoid of feeling. The idea of laying down to rest was becoming stronger, more attractive, but her brain was still logical enough to know that it would be a bad idea to stop moving. She couldn’t give up. She had no idea if it was cold enough to die from hypothermia (it certainly sounded overly dramatic), but she was so very cold, and by now it was late enough that she hadn’t seen a light on in a house for a long time.

_I wish Nick was here._

The thought, one she’d push out of her mind when it was half formed now squirmed quietly back in, settling firm and resolute in her mind. Why had she run off, before he had the chance to even say anything? He had kissed her back, hasn’t he? And yet she’d bolted, not even waiting for him to speak. If kissing him hadn’t ruined things, surely that dramatic moment had. He’d be hurt and confused and…she frowned. He might have just let her go. Might had shrugged and gone back to the party. Diane shook her head. Even if he wasn’t interested in her, surely…they’d been friends, and she didn’t think he would really let her go out into the night on her own. Would he?

Head swirling, Diane stopped again, finally giving into the desire to sit down. It was in a pool of light, at least; a low wall on one side of a street. She wrapped her arms around herself again, though there felt like she had little heat to conserve. The shivering had made her muscles ache, and she dropped her head, wishing for something.

Someone.

Nick.

“Are you alright?”

The voice was close, and Diane blinked at the ground before looking up. A young woman stood in front of her, concern writ across her face.

“Cold,” Diane said. “Lost.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “You don’t have a jacket. Come on, we need to get you warm.”

Diane allowed herself to be helped up. Something warm wrapped around her shoulders, and she pulled it close, relishing the warmth in her almost numb body. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Where are you staying?” the woman asked, guiding Diane to an idling car. When Diane didn’t answer – speaking was so very hard, all of a sudden – she said, “Never mind, you can come back to my house. It’ll be warmer than any of the shelters anyway.”

Diane sat in the car, closing her eyes until a hand on her face.

“Can you open your eyes?”

With a struggle, she did, blinking blearily at the woman.

“What’s your name? Are you travelling with anyone? They might be worried about you.”

Diane blinked, all the questions blending together. She felt tears start again. “Diane. I’m Diane. And Nick…but he’s not worried.”

“I’m sure he is,” the woman murmured, reaching over to secure Diane’s seatbelt. “Well, I’m Lisa. Let’s get you somewhere warm, okay?”

The door shut, and a moment later Lisa climbed into the drivers’ seat and hot air blasted out into the car. Time blurred for a while, and Diane had snippets of memories; getting out of the car, walking, steps, walking, lying on something warm and soft. Drinking something warm. More warm, more soft, voices murmuring.

“Diane?”

Lisa’s voice was close, and she’d been so nice Diane forced her eyes open, though she could barely focus.

“Where were you staying, honey?”

The casual term of affection, so familiar from home, made her smile a little. “At the school.”

“With Nick?”

Diane felt her smile fade at the mention of his name. “Not with Nick. He’s English…” She closed her eyes, wanting to escape for a while.

“Okay,” Lisa said, her voice fading out with the rest of reality.

Later – Diane didn’t know how much longer – she surfaced again. Warm and soft were her first impressions. And there was something else, something unfamiliar. She shifted a little, very aware of her body, trying to figure out what was so strange. As she flexed her fingers, one hand was free to move. The other – the other was…was someone holding her hand? She curled her fingers in, and when the other hand did the same, her heart started pounding faster. What was going on?

Without opening her eyes, Diane thought back. What had happened before now? They’d been at the bar, and drunk that screech, and she’d kissed…

“Nick,” she whispered.

She’d kissed Nick.

“Nick,” she repeated.

And then there were hours of walking, walking and crying in the cold, and she’d almost given up when Lisa found her.

“Diane?”

The voice was tentative, as though wondering if she’d even spoken. It was also decidedly not Lisa’s voice. More familiar than that, and in Gander, so far from everyone she knew, it could only be…

“Nick,” she said again, curling her fingers in. This time when the other hand squeezed hers she held on and opened her eyes.

It took a moment of blinking but her blurred vision cleared. She was in a house, in a bed, she thought, but those details seemed less relevant when the face looking anxiously at her came into focus.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Nick smiled at her, relief in his whole expression. “Hello,” he said.

Struggling a little, Diane sat up, blinking. “What are you doing here?” she asked. It might have sounded harsh but she was relieved to hear her own voice was more timid than demanding.

Nick opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning at their clasped hands. She’d learned in the last few days that he was thinking.

“Lisa contacted the school,” he said, his words obviously chosen carefully. “I think…she said you mentioned my name. She was worried that I’d be worried.”

Diane nodded, her heart thumping.

“Beulah helped her find me.” He smiled tentatively, flushing as he admitted, “When Lisa told her she had an American woman talking about an Englishman called Nick, Beulah knew exactly who she meant.”

“She did?” Diane said in surprise.

“Apparently the fish ceremony was a talking point,” Nick admitted. “And you and I have spent enough time together to be associated with each other anyway.”

“Ah,” Diane said. She swallowed, wincing at her dry mouth. “I might just…I’ll be back in a minute,” she said. A quick check under the blankets (still wearing clothes from last night, good), and she slipped out, flicking a glance at Nick as she stepped out, relieved to find the bathroom directly across the hall. A few moments made her much more comfortable. She was pleased to find a small pile of new toiletries. Clean teeth made her feel much better, but she was still cold in her core.

“Sorry,” she said to Nick, returning to the bedroom. “I’m still cold.” She slipped under the covers, heart skipping as Nick helped her arrange them again.

He didn’t reach for her hand, and she wasn’t sure if she was glad or disappointed. A moment of silence, and Diane gave herself a stern talking to. There was no point trying to avoid it; they had to have a conversation about last night. Especially if he’d come here and sat with her.

“How long have you been here?” she asked, rolling her eyes at her own avoidance strategy.

“A while,” Nick admitted. He frowned a little as he said quietly, “Couldn’t find you for a couple of hours. Almost asked that police officer to go out looking for you.”

“Really?” Diane said, surprised.

Nick’s eyes met hers. “You ran out without your coat. In the middle of the night.” His face coloured again. “After you kissed me.”

Diane felt her own face heat. Nick, the shy, reserved Englishman was more courageous in this situation than she was. The least she could do was meet him halfway.

“I did,” she admitted. Nick was sitting close – he’d been holding her hand, so his knees were almost touching the bed – so she took a deep breath and edged one hand out from under the blankets, fingertips brushing his knee. He started, looking down for a moment before hesitantly placing his own hand over hers.

“I don’t think I told you,” Diane said. “I don’t really drink beer.”

Nick nodded blankly until he realised what she was saying. “You don’t?”

She shook her head, expression apologetic. “I don’t. I didn’t finish the bottles last night.”

“Right,” Nick replied. “So you weren’t…”

“Drunk?” Diane supplied.

“Affected by the alcohol,” Nick corrected her.

“No,” Diane said quietly, “I don’t think so.”

Nick nodded, assimilating that. “So you left because…”

Diane took a deep breath. She forced herself to look at Nick, his blue eyes meeting hers with such openness she almost had to look away.

“I thought I might have…I didn’t know if you…” she frowned, not sure how to phrase it. “You kissed me back,” she said, almost wincing at the stark honesty. “But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to, or…not.” Probably not the most coherent sentence she’d ever put together, but hopefully Nick would understand what she was saying.

“I wasn’t sure if you were carried away not wanting to kiss the fish,” Nick said, “which would have been understandable, it was disgusting,” he shuddered, and Diane smiled fondly despite her insecurity, “or…not.”

“I probably was a little carried away,” Diane admitted, “because it seemed like a good excuse to do,” deep breath, “what I wanted to do anyway.”

“You did?” Nick replied.

Diane nodded, her heart pounding. She was suddenly in the same place as last night; taking what felt like a monumental risk, waiting for Nick’s reaction, wanting to run away. Not this time though. Swallowing hard, she rolled her hand over, lacing her trembling fingers with Nick’s. She kept the grip light, in case he wanted to ease away without too much effort. Watching his face, trying to read him – but all she could tell was that he was thinking. Probably.

Just breathe, she told herself. Be patient.

Slowly, his fingers curled around hers, still sitting on her knee. His eyes were still on hers, and she wondered if the slight fear in his eyes had been visible in her eyes before she spoke, too. His mouth opened, then closed; Diane wondered what he was going to say.

But he didn’t speak. Instead he leaned forward, holding her eyes until he was close and his intention was clear. Heart thumping, she smiled at him as solid as she was able. Diane felt her breath hitch as he eased closer, and her eyes closed when his hand cupped her face. She could feel his fingers trembling, but before she could think too much about it his mouth settled on hers and all else became irrelevant.

Finally, they understood each other.


End file.
